Apologies
by truemysterys
Summary: {SPOILERS FOR 4x03 THE FINAL PROBLEM} Molly refused to listen to him. People came around, consoling her, seeing how she was, but never him. She didn't want him in her house.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Of course. Of, bloody, course.

Of all the things Eurus Holmes could have done, she decided to mess with her love life. Well, less of a love life, more of a fantasy.

 _"I love you."_ He had said. It sounded as though he meant it, although Molly wasn't stupid enough to believe he meant it. She knew the distress though, the slight panic underlying every syllable he muttered, and cooperated, even though she knew it would break her heart.

And, after all hell had broken loose in her life, and presumably his too, Sherlock had being trying to contact her. Endlessly. She didn't even want to know why. Whether it was about baby Rosie, who she really did need to visit, rebuilding his flat, simply a body from the morgue.

But, most likely, he wanted to address the fact that she was still stupidly, ridiculously, head-over-heels in love with the self-proclaimed 'high functioning sociopath'.

Everyone had been trying to see if she was okay. Mrs Hudson, bless her soul, came round with some casserole and 'herbal soothers', to relieve the pain. Although Molly appreciated the gesture, she was still fairly unsure on how legal Mrs Hudson's herbal soothers really were. And she didn't want to find out.

Mycroft rang her, saying he was sorry. Which, shocked her just a little. Nobody ever spoke of the eldest Holmes actually having emotions, never mind showing them. But, he was there when Sherlock had to... Anyway, he warned her. That this could possibly put a target on her back, showing her closeness to the famous detective. He'd put some basic government security around her flat, to protect her. It wasn't exactly he was too interested in watching her dance to 'High School Musical' in her pajamas.

Even Greg popped round, to see how she was coping. The two of them had always had a friendly relationship, mostly bonding over anecdotes of Sherlock being an arsehole, so he had a mini sleepover, watching 'The Notebook' and eating butter popcorn, to make sure she was okay. Although Molly seriously doubted Greg had ever been on the receiving end of a heartbroken, weeping pathologist. At least he tried.

John did too, or at least pretended to. She could tell from a mile away that Sherlock sent him, which annoyed her ever so slightly. Molly was one of the godmothers of his child, for crying out loud. She sent him away quicker than anybody else, relaying the message to him that he had relayed to her : "She would rather have anybody but you, Sherlock" were the exact words he told Sherlock.

Her phone was vibrating again, almost ringing of her marble kitchen surfaces. She had a half-cut lime on it, she fancied eating some to sharpen her tastebuds, when she got incredibly angry and threw one half of the lime out of the window. Molly was pretty sure she hit Pervy Brian, her creepy neighbour who always seemed way too interested in her, which was simply a bonus.

Unsurprisingly it was Sherlock ringing. She waited for it to ring off, before checking her voicemail. First time he had left a message, maybe it was something important. Or maybe he was just being a dickhead, as per usual.

"Hi Molly, Sherlock here. Um... Look, it seems very likely that you are ignoring me, due to circumstances my sister created. I... I... I am truly sorry, Molly Hooper. I trusted you in my darkest time, and I betrayed it due to my sister's cruel trick. I know... Well, I can almost know, that you probably don't want to see me, or John either, but if you do, I've texted you an address and a time. If you don't turn up... Well, I'll leave you alone. Truly, I will. If not, you can listen to me be more of an idiot in real life. Goodbye." The voicemail rang off, and Molly felt the distinct weight of a tear, rolling down her cheek.

How did he do that? There was a reason she was ignoring him, because she knew he could do stuff like that. He could change her entire opinion within in the space of less than five minutes.

She knew he didn't really care for her, anybody with eyes could see the way he looked at John, the caring showing when John wasn't looking. She knew he didn't love her like she loved him, like she would always love him, but maybe it didn't care.

If there was one thing Molly was vaguely sure about, it was that she seriously needed some friends to make up for the colossal wreck her life had previously been. And Sherlock seemed to be one of the few people up for the job.

It wasn't like she had a choice, anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

She walked trough the park, wearing a navy hoodie and black jeans, trying to blend in with the darkness that surrounded her. Molly didn't really feel like wearing her usual bright coloured catastrophe. She didn't want to look happy and joyful, when on the inside she was just numb. She had been so optimistic when he rang, about meeting, so happy that maybe she could have a friend in this universe.

But then, her usually dormant side decided to wake up and make Molly question ever single stupid thung she has ever done in the history of her existence. Therefore, she was incredibly less optimistic than she was.

She had spent approximately five days, six hours, twenty three minutes and twelve seconds going back and forth in her mind. Molly had never been this undecisive in her life, and it was scary in a way.

She could see him from a mile away, at least in her mind. His curly hair, big long black coat, with the collars turned up, looking like he just walked out of Selfridge's or Harrods. And there he was, sat on a park bench, twiddling his fingers idly.

Ten o'clock had been and went, Sherlock sitting on his bench, Molly hiding behind a tree in terror. She didn't know how to approach him, how to act around the man who forced an unwilling love confession from her lips, to supposedly save her life. Or not, it hadn't really processed in her head correctly from when Mycroft told her everything that had happened in Sherrinford.

She just kept watching him, silent as a mouse the both of them. It almost terrified Molly, the idea she was this close from forgiving him, and couldn't bring herself to do it. He did seem as distraught as she did, but she wasn't entirely sure if that was a good thing. It just, happened.

Another ten minutes came by, and Molly watched as Sherlock stood up slowly, ruffling his hair in a way that seemed sad and miserable, taking a long look at the bench. He muttered something, Molly knew that much, but she wasn't sure what he muttered. He started walking, and before Molly could even begin to think, she blurted out the first thing she could.

"Wait!" Molly yelled, and Sherlock looked to see Molly Hooper running at him. Was that relief on his face? She wasn't sure.

"You came." He sighed, smiling softly. She wasn't used to seeing emotion on him, especially not looking back at how he used to be. John changed him, unsurprisingly. They say love does that to you, although Molly doubted she would ever know.

"Yeah, well, I had to hear you out, even just to stop John coming round with recorders strapped to his stomach." Molly joked, sarcasm laced through her voice, and Sherlock laughed. Not loudly, but loud enough for Molly to understand he was laughing, not crying.

"I never sent him to do that!" Sherlock replied, still faintly laughing.

"It wasn't too far away from him doing it himself, I think." Molly said truthfully, as Sherlock forced himself to stop laughing, "Anyway, what did you want to say?"

"I, um, I wanted to apologise. You know everything that happened, on that day, probably. I think Mycroft was to blame there. But, but... I only did it, because I couldn't let you die." He muttered, and Molly felt confused.

"But, Mycroft said there wasn't a threat..." She droned off quietly, hoping Sherlock would explain to her.

"Eurus decided to play with my mind, by pretending you were in danger. And that you would die unless..."

"Unless I told you I loved you." Molly finished his sentence, and Sherlock nodded, his head facing the ground in what looked to be shame.

"If I knew, had a glimpse of knowing, what she was up to, Molly, I never would have-"

But he was cut off, by Molly slowly wrapping her arms around his neck, and hugging him. He stood still for a moment, unsure of what was happening and what to do. Guess it was the Holmes intuition.

"Molly, I-"

"Just give me a hug, you giant idiot." Molly laughed, and she felt herself relax as Sherlock tentatively placed his arms around her back, bringing her closer to him.

"Um, why are you hugging me?" He asked quietly, as he brought the little pathologist closer to him.

"Well, I'm not exactly going to kiss you and declare my undying love for you. So, this is what I can do without looking like a raving idiot. Like I usually do." Molly said, and Sherlock pulled away. Not sharply, or in a cruel way, but still in a way that felt like a stab in Molly's back.

"I... I'm... Sorry. For... Embarrassing you." Sherlock stuttered, but Molly shook her head.

"You've apologised already, give it up. I don't want to spend the rest of my life hearing Sherlock Holmes apologise to me. Just, shut up. Okay?" She said, and Sherlock nodded, "Right, I'm bloody starving."

"I know this Italian place not too far from here. The owner owes, well, owed, me a favour, but he's very nice. Still." Sherlock said, and Molly was impressed. Somebody, actually liking Sherlock? Well, somebody other than herself.

"Come on then. I'm getting a whole pizza." Molly grinned, as she took Sherlock's arm and the two of them walked from the park.

If this was a normal, clichéd romance tale, this would have ended with the two of them making out and telling each other their deepest desires, Molly thought. But she knew, real life wasn't like that, though it took her long enough, and she will just have to be content with being a friend to the great detective Sherlock Holmes.


End file.
